


where the broken hearts stay.

by cr3matedfl3sh



Category: Hunter X Hunter
Genre: Angst, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Secret Relationship, Trauma
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-05
Updated: 2020-09-05
Packaged: 2021-03-07 00:21:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 754
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26297827
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cr3matedfl3sh/pseuds/cr3matedfl3sh
Summary: a high-class assassin who has purged the earth of those he has been commissioned to seeks solace in a tryst-like relationship with another merciless, virile killer.it turns out that they are human, too.
Relationships: Hisoka/Illumi Zoldyck
Kudos: 70





	where the broken hearts stay.

**Author's Note:**

> this is some hisoillu drivel i brainstormed after hearing 'lonesome town.' speaking of, listen to it while reading. enjoy the sadness.

_There’s a place where lovers go, to cry their troubles away -_

Not a lover, not loved, nor capable of it. An assassin’s work was noxious, and, the longer one was in the business, secreting ennui after acquaintance to the many ways of the slaughter. A daily kill, just a few more; raking in the dough and keeping the machine of a family well-oiled, working for an eternity. His contribution was little in the grand scheme of the lineage, despite whittling himself to the bone on another’s behalf, for the hopeful satisfaction of his never-satisfied parents.

_and they call it lonesome town, where the broken hearts stay._

Illumi found himself in this position on occasions he could count on one hand, but it never failed to show the male who was holding in him pain itching to be relieved from a dulled heart. Tears were a luxury he was never allowed to indulge himself in, it was the lowest priority that was never met.

_You can buy a dream or two, to last you all through the years,_

Although everyone else saw the vibrancy of the trees and the sky, all the noirette was ingrained to focus on was the future, there was another kill to be done within the next ten minutes; and after that, another. Who was this but a machine, appearing without all human qualities save for the body which allowed him the optimal gears to end life. Lives. Hundreds. Which would grow to the thousands. In time. Too much time.

_and the only price you pay, is a heart full of tears._

“Hisoka, I,”

At his door, it was opened to this well-put together vessel of damaged days, cursing a hitched breath which obscured his typically fluent speech.

“I can’t do this anymore.”

Still pauciloquent and robotic in tone, a doleful inflection tainted the confession, tears festering in his deadened eyes, shrouding the pupils until he was forced to close them, just as the only one he had closed in on him. Arms around a chilled body, warm breath brushing past an ear which had heard many marathonic demands. No more. Failing in Hisoka’s grasp.

_Going down to lonesome town, where the broken hearts stay,_

Nothing else was spoken, this was each other’s refuge. Two outwardly strong men with strangled hearts and breaths, unable to contain the pain when it was so simple to writhe in a feeling typically received with punitive reactions with one another. Hisoka understood, his virile mask colliding with the ground as soon as what he heard to be that pained mewling at his door, a call for acceptance when all else was to the contrary. They were all each other had. Home.

_going down to lonesome town, to cry my troubles away._

The tears stained his porcelain self, obscuring the indifferent features in silence, still unable to let anything other than a weak sniffle out, petty fears unable to completely abandon his side in the presence of someone who took him in with sure dearness and innocuous care.

“I know, Illu,”

the lull of his fingers brushing through meticulously groomed locks sent him totally hushed, chest stuttering as his breaths were choked out. Jaunty and imperfect.

“You don’t have to do it anymore.”

_In the town of broken dreams, the streets are filled with regret,_

Although the sadness would be expected to be pure, the most clarity man could ever hope to show, he was filled with guilt and regret for letting himself slip. Even if he wanted it. Craved a few minutes of support, a vehement shame coursing through svelte limbs reminded him of the unique position he was in – weeping in the arms of a murderous, unfeeling jester. The truth lay with them both in these moments, both were the products of an inhuman agenda.

_maybe down in lonesome town, I can learn to forget._

This encounter was a tryst, some cacoethes which they knew not to mention any time they would call on one another for assistance while about their daily treks of slaughter and spying. This was an affair neither of them wished to remember, as a lifetime of torturous events and coveted love shut down any deeper aspects of themselves, they were possessed by the claws of artificial humanity. If anyone knew, or if Illumi caught himself wandering around the thoughts in his mind, he would die of crestfallen reactions by family - or worse, himself.

Was it better to live lonesome with this clandestine memory, or wilt in each other’s arms?


End file.
